Weakness and Strength
by WillowEchoRiver
Summary: Soon after Dumbledore's funeral, Ginny remembers something that happened long ago, and considers the war ahead. Rated K Plus to be safe, due to mentions of death. Implied Harry/Ginny.


**Author's Note: I was watching the sixth Harry Potter movie again recently and I was just thinking about how in both the books and the movies we get a lot of focus on what Harry is feeling at Dumbledore's death, and not very much of what other characters are feeling. So, I wanted to write a little bit about what Ginny might have been thinking.**

The beginning of this fanfiction takes place the summer after The Chamber of Secrets, and the second half takes place early summer after The Half Blood Prince.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. But a girl can dream, right?

Weakness and Strength

The evening was warm as summer slowly drifted into fall. A cool breeze danced through the trees and blew the grass softly. Stars could be seen sprinkled across the sky, and a half-moon lit the air and everything below.

A small girl with fiery red hair sat upon the grass underneath a tree in the yard of the Burrow, which was warmly lit nearby.

Cheerful voices wafted over the green lawn as a garden gnome passed Ginny.

She heard her mother call her, saying dessert was ready, if she would only come inside. It was her favorite, she could hear her mother mention. But not even the delicious peanut butter cake with chocolate frosting and a side of strawberries could call her into the crowded house at that moment. She had no appetite. Besides, she was sure her mother would save her a piece. These days her mum did anything to keep her smiling.

A rush of guilt filled her at the thought. Her mother was constantly trying to keep her happy because happiness was so fragile these days. She was constantly going out of her way to make Ginny smile, and Ginny knew how kind her mother was being, but it only made her feel more awful.

Guilt at what she had been made to do at school the year before had haunted her throughout the summer, and she was sure it still would for years to come.

She didn't deserve to be a Weasley, to have a kind mother and father, she told herself.

Even on the trip to Egypt, her mum had kept her away from the most frightening places, while going out of her way to show Ginny the more cheerful locations. The pleasant scenery, the happy tourist locations. Even if at the time Ginny had desperately wanted to go into _all_ the frightening places with her brothers, later on she was glad her mother had not allowed it, or dreams of mummy filled pyramids would merge with her nightmares of snakes and blood and the Chamber.

From inside the house she could hear the voice of the Hogwarts Headmaster, who her parents had invited for supper one evening, along with many other family friends. The crowd made Ginny uncomfortable, and she had sought the refuge of the quiet outdoors.

She was startled from her thoughts as she heard a voice behind her. She jumped to her feet and spun around.

Her fear had calmed when she saw Dumbledore standing there, rather then the dark hair and cool eyes of Tom Riddle, which she had almost been expecting. But the calm only lasted for a moment and then she felt nervousness fill her. She couldn't help but feel uncomfortable around the kind, old headmaster. After all, he was so good and admirable, and yet, he knew what she had done. He knew how she had almost killed so many people. He knew that she had almost singlehandedly brought Lord Voldemort back. And it terrified her.

"P-professor." She stumbled over the word nervously, her eyes on the ground.

"Good evening, Miss Weasley, would you give me the pleasure of walking me to the gate? It's getting late and I'm afraid I should be going." The kind old headmaster said cheerfully.

"Y-yes sir. Of course!" Her voice was soft and nervous as she looked up into those piercing blue eyes that made the guilt in her seem to grow.

The school headmaster must have thought so ill of her. She didn't like to be thought badly of by anyone, especially her professors.

She walked with him to the small gate that lined the yard, and expected him to be off instantly, but he paused for a moment, and then spoke, "Miss Weasley, I cannot help but realize you seem troubled. Would I be correct in assuming it has something to do with the events of the last year?" Dumbledore's voice was calm and gentle.

She nodded, unable to find her voice. She felt ashamed of herself.

"Voldemort, -Tom Riddle -" Dumbledore said, and Ginny flinched at the name, but unlike most people, it was the second name he'd spoken her that frightened her much more then the first. "He always had a way of charming people, and I mean that literally and figuratively."

"Sir?"

"You cannot blame yourself that he snared you in his trap, for he has done it to so many brave and noble witches and wizards. I am afraid we, as people, are far more vulnerable when we need a friend. Tom Riddle knew this, and so he offered you friendship when you needed it most. He offered it to you in one of the most lonely times of your life, when you were new to school and nervous and had little friends. He found your weakness, Miss Weasley, but I assure you, there are weaknesses much worse than that of friendship. For it can be both a strength and a weakness."

Ginny's eyes fell to the ground as she responded, "I was a fool, I was not brave or noble. I should not be a Gryffindor."

A small smile grew on the professor's face, "Ah, you are not the only student this year who has wondered such. I am afraid we do not give the sorting hat the credit that it deserves."

"I don't know what you mean, professor."

"You must keep this to yourself, Miss Weasley, can you do so?"

Ginny's eyes were full of curiosity as she nodded silently, eager to hear what secret she was to be trusted with. But Dumbledore did not immediately give her the answer, instead he asked,

"Do you think that Mr. Potter is brave?"

Ginny was caught off guard by the question, but she nodded quickly, "Oh, yes, professor! He is brave and noble and good and kind and loyal and-" She stopped, her cheeks turning bright red.

A knowing smile crossed the headmaster's face, but instead of commenting he told her the secret she must keep, "And yet, even Mr. Potter has doubted his rightful place in Gryffindor house."

Ginny felt a lump in her throat, and swallowed hard. Harry did not think he belonged in Gryffindor? But he was the most wonderful person she had ever met! How could he think such things?

Suddenly, she felt sick to her stomach as she said rather absently, "Harry must think so awfully of me."

"Harry does not blame you. He never blamed you. No one else has, either. So, Miss Weasley, I think you have a choice to make." Dumbledore said calmly, as he looked down at her with a gentle expression.

"What is it, sir?"

"Will you go on with life thinking low of yourself and feeling guilty? Or," He said, pausing slightly, "Will you begin to see, that what you did in the past or even what Harry may think about you, does not define who _you_ are?"

Before she could answer, Dumbledore was unlatching the gate.

"Good evening, Miss Weasley."

She paused, her mind full of faraway thoughts, before calling out to Dumbledore, "Good evening professor! And...Thank you!"

The old man turned, nodded smilingly at her, before apparating away.

She could hear her mother calling to her from inside the house, and a small smile formed upon her tired face.

She turned to go inside to her mum, and a single tear fell down her cheek as she thought of everything that had happened and everything that was still to come.

****Four Years Later****

The warmth of the sun shining through the window, the birds singing outside, and the promise of spring approaching all seemed disgustingly unfit for the feelings of grief around the castle.

Ginny let out a sigh as she folded some of her clothes and laid them gently in her trunk, thinking of how grateful she was that her roommates had all gone outside to enjoy the supposed comfort of sunshine. She was glad to be alone.

The memory of her conversation with Dumbledore so long ago seemed to stick in her mind at this moment, but it was not welcome there. Thoughts of the kind headmaster were miserable thoughts, when he had just been killed. He had been a kind man, and while Ginny had not known him well, she felt the pain that everyone else felt at his loss.

He had been a great man, a kind one, and he was dead. As if all his powers and magic and kindness had never been. But they had been. And he remained in the memories of all the students and teachers at the school.

Ginny was sure that each student must have had at _least_ one memory where the old headmaster had done something wonderfully kind for them, and Ginny's was that evening at the Burrow, when Dumbledore had told her she didn't need to live in guilt. When Dumbledore had told her she didn't even need Harry.

_Harry_.

She felt sick, suddenly, as she gazed out the window.

Always the good and noble Harry had broken her heart, for good and noble causes. He had left her to keep her safe, and while that should have made her feel better, she still felt a pain deep inside her heart when she thought of it.

She wasn't sure that she would ever have that happy ending she had always dreamed of with Harry, because there was no way to know who would survive this war. There was no way to know if any of them would see the end of it.

After all, Dumbledore hadn't survived this war, and he was the most powerful wizard of all time. The only man Tom Ri-Voldemort, she corrected herself, had ever feared.

And he was dead.

Ginny sighed as that conversation with Dumbledore so long ago replayed once more in her mind. She had been almost certain, in the years after that conversation, that the headmaster had always kept an eye on her. Made sure she was making friends, made sure she wasn't letting herself fall prey to her own guilty feelings.

She had not known Dumbledore like Harry, but she felt his loss as strongly as the rest of the world did, but mostly, Ginny felt fear.

She was scared of the war that was to come, she was scared of who might be the next to die. What if she lost everything? Her family? Her friends? The most horrible thought of all hit her, _What if Harry was killed?_ He was perhaps, the most endangered of them all, because Ginny knew that he would fight till the end.

The idea of losing him, the idea of him being killed, could shatter her heart more than any break up could.

And if Dumbledore had died, he whom they had all often considered almost invincible…What was to say Harry didn't die too?

Ginny had watched from a distance for many years as Harry had barely escaped with his life time and time again, but what if one of these times, he didn't?

Ginny blinked and tried to push those fears to the back of her mind.

She leaned down to close her trunk, before she approached the open window and gazed out of it.

Some workers were still folding up the chairs from Dumbledore's funeral, and students were scattered around the lawn, sitting in small groups together or alone far away from other groups. But there wasn't the usual laughter, everyone was feeling the same sorrow, the same fear.

And suddenly Ginny didn't feel so alone, because everyone else was feeling what she felt as well.

'_There are weaknesses much worse then that of friendship. For it can be both a strength and a weakness.' _She remembered Dumbledore saying.

She would make sure it would be a strength in this war, she decided.

She was still very much afraid, but there was much comfort to her fear knowing that she would not be alone.

So as she turned to go outside and find some of her friends, a single tear fell down her cheek and she thought of everything that had happened and everything that was still to come.


End file.
